


Fem

by fandomdevotee



Category: ChaoticMonki, cryaotic
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7215445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomdevotee/pseuds/fandomdevotee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up to an unwelcome discovery is never a pleasant experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fem

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a Gender Studies contest on Wattpad two years ago. It's not my best work (I don't think I even have a best work) but it's decently written, although my writing has definitely evolved a lot since then. Just a quick, fun little story.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I had boobs.

_Boobs._

There were literally two giant balls of flab protruding from my upper chest.

I immediately rose into shock. Never in my life had I woken up and discovered that I was in the possession of a female anatomy. Hell, I doubted any male in history suddenly grew boobs literally out of nowhere. Did I hit puberty a second time? Had my body finally decided that it wanted to be a woman all of a sudden? I certainly hoped not.

I shot up out of the bed and onto my feet. My newly obtained boobs jiggled against my shirtless chest as I pulled myself up, and a strangled whimper emitted from the back of my throat when I processed the unfamiliar sensation in bewilderment. What in the _hell?_

The first thing that came to mind when I got back on my feet was to check the mirror, as any person who had a brain would think to do. Stepping up to the full-length reflective surface that was propped against my wall, my eyes immediately focused onto my chest.

_Damn._

Of all the times I’d pictured what it would be like to be the opposite gender (as everyone had at least once in their lives, admit it), I never imagined it to be like this. I expected myself to think, _Cool, wow, I’m a girl, this should be fun,_ but my mind was completely and utterly blank. Envisioning this phenomenon was one thing; having it actually _happen_ was another. And this whole illusion coming to life? Not cool. Really, _really_ not cool.

As I continued to stare at my reflection in awe, I realized one thing – my body may have been one of a female’s, but my brain was still as masculine as can be. I couldn’t say that ogling unabashedly at my own chest didn’t do anything for _that_ part of my mind; after all, I had a pretty damn good rack, even if I did say so for myself. With my gaze fixed on my breasts, I felt the familiar sensation of blood and heat pooling down _there_ , signaling the arrival of my inevitable arousal. I waited for my “friend” to tense and straighten up, to strain against the fabric of my boxers as I hardened... but it didn’t happen.

A sudden surge of panic washed through me as I thrust my hand into my boxers and between my legs in search of my manly goods, but came up with nothing. I didn’t know what I was expecting; I mean, if I was a female, I’d surely lose my junk in the process, right? Still, having my own dick bail on me left me in a sheer stupor. It was funny how I panicked more about _that_ little discovery than I did about the thought of transforming into a woman, but I’d lost one of the only things that deemed me a man – I literally had no balls now, and what did I receive in return? A _pussy._

Cheyenne would have a riot.

God, _Cheyenne_. How the hell was I supposed to tell that her I’d turned into a girl overnight? Jesus Christ, I was supposed to be her _boyfriend._

Whirling around on my heels, I turned my back on the mirror and briskly strode over to where my computer was perched on my desk. The sudden movement acted accordingly on my two little bundles of joy, and I shuddered at the feeling. I didn’t think I would get used to that anytime soon.

I plopped down onto my seat slowly, careful not to jostle my new parts any more than I already had. Flicking the power button on the computer, I sank back against my seat and waited for the damn thing to boot up. When it finally did, I quickly opened up Skype without another thought. Cheyenne was online, thank the lord.

I clicked the button to call her and waited impatiently for her to pick up. As the dial tone hummed from the speakers, I placed bets in my mind on how she would react. Would she freak out and want nothing to do with me ever again? Would she be understanding and help me figure out a way to reverse myself back to normal? Or would she find this whole situation absolutely hilarious? My money was on the latter.

Finally, the screen blinked to life and a smiling Cheyenne was revealed.

“Hey babe! How are – OH MY GOD!”

Confusion clouded my mind as Chey threw an arm across her eyes and rapidly backed away from the screen. What? Was it my face? I didn’t think I was _that_ ugly, but apparently I was mistaken. My first guess at her reaction was coming true – she was freaking out, though at what I had no idea. I hadn’t even explained to her what happened yet, and she was _already_ making assumptions?

“Cover it! _Cover it,_ god dammit!” Cheyenne yelled, still refusing to look at the screen.

Cover what? Cover my face? _Offensive._ I was about to tell her to some respect for my newly obtained feminine looks when the realization hit me. Slowly, I turned my gaze downward and focused on my chest. Oh. Oh.

I’d forgotten to put a shirt on.

Crap crap crap crap crap. I hastily scanned my surroundings for something I could use to cover my bits. Grabbing the nearest t-shirt, I threw it over my head and quickly pulled the fabric over the area that was not meant to be openly exposed. The shirt fell halfway to my knees, I noticed, and while my mind was drifting off the topic of the current issue at hand, I wondered if wearing a guy’s shirt was always like this for women. Seriously, the shirt quite literally swallowed me whole. I didn’t think there was much of a difference between my male body and my new female one (minus the loss and gain of new bodily components), but apparently I’d cut down half my previous size. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing.

I turned my attention back to Cheyenne. “Okay, okay, I covered it! I think it’s safe to look n – “

I slapped a hand on top of my mouth. My voice. _My voice._ What the _hell?_

My voice was now high and shrill, feminine through and through, and nothing at all like the deep, husky masculinity I originally possessed that got me known all over YouTube. My voice, my most deeming quality, had been robbed from me.

Losing my balls? I could tolerate that. Forgetting to put a shirt on? I solved that easily. But this? This was unacceptable.

This was another one of the things I was supposed to automatically know had changed when my gender was swapped, but didn’t actually acknowledge until now. Other people would think, _Duh, if you’re gonna turn into a girl, it’s obviously going to be the whole package,_ but my mind hadn’t caught up to reality yet. It sucked, because when I finally recognized the changes, it was like dunking your head in ice-cold water – it effectively woke you up from whatever haze was muddling with your head. And me? I was no exception to that.

“Cheyenne?” I croaked, cringing at the feeble sound of my newly-discovered vocal chords.

I watched as Chey adjusted her arm to peek out at the screen. Once she confirmed that I had indeed put a shirt on, she dropped her arm and focused on my face.

“Alright. I want answers,” she started, crossing her arms, “Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my boyfriend’s bedroom? Naked, too, of all things.”

I frowned. “I wasn’t naked. I’m wearing boxers.”

She guffawed. “Oh, so now you’re wearing his underwear. This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

“I’m wearing my own underwear, thank you very much.”

“And you happen to own a pair of boxers? Or has this whole thing been going on for so long that he’s giving you his underwear to keep?”

“What whole thing – “ Oh. Huh.

I should’ve realized that every little thing that came out of my mouth implied that I was some random girl who happened to be hooking up with... myself. Yep, it was definitely time to start explaining things to Chey.

I took a deep breath. “Cheyenne... it’s me.”

She snorted. “Yeah, damn right it’s you. And I’m going to ask again, if I may; who the hell are you?”

“I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, and I’m Barack Obama. You have a disturbing sense of humour, girl.”

“No,” I huffed out in exasperation. Explaining this to her was going to take a hell of a lot of effort. “Cheyenne, listen to me. Everything I’m about to say is the truth, so just bear with me for a few moments, okay?”

Cheyenne sat back in her seat and stared at me with a doubtful expression. “I’m listening.”

“Thank you,” I told her, “So, um, this morning I woke up as a girl – “

“Okay, hold up, _what_ did you just say?” she said with an incredulous look on her face.

I sighed and tried to put my situation in simpler terms. “I grew boobs.”

“Pfft. No kidding. It wasn’t like I got an unwilling eyeful of them a couple minutes ago or anything.”

“Cheyenne, I’m dead serious. I literally – _literally_ – woke up this morning as a girl. You know, female? Woman? Lady? Damsel? Madam? X-chromosome? Boobs – “

“Yeah, yeah, I know what a goddamn girl is.”

I nodded. Good, we were getting somewhere with this. “So you get my problem?”

“I see what you’re saying,” she said slowly, “but what I’m having trouble understanding is the whole I-turned-into-a-girl-overnight thing. It is pretty outrageous, in my defense. I mean, how am I supposed to believe that you’re not just messing around with me?”

“Ask me a question. Something only I would know.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Okay... Last week, you told me about your ideal videogame. Text me the description of it.”

Easy. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone, unlocking it. Quickly tapping out my response, I pressed send and waited for Cheyenne’s phone to signal the arrival of my text on the other end.

“Got it,” she told me and turned her attention to the phone clutched in her hand.

Completely assured that she would be convinced, I slouched back into my seat and observed her reaction unfold. At first, she looked skeptical about whether or not my text would reveal the truth, but as she scanned the lines of words, her eyes widened more and more until they were practically saucers. Then she turned those disbelief-filled saucers to me and murmured, “Is this for real?”

I nodded. “As real as it can be.”

She continued to stare at me while her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Is that really you? Are you actually a girl now?”

“Well, considering the fact that I now have boobs and a vagina, I’d say that I am very much a female.”

“But _how?_ ”

I eyed her with a mock irritation. “Well gee, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now if I knew it for myself?”

“Alright, alright, calm your tits.”

“Was that intentional irony I heard?”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

I sighed. “Well, do you have any suggestions as to how I can return to my good ol’ manly self?”

“Wait, hold on. Let me get something straight; you’ve somehow magically switched genders, and you want to return to normal so soon? God, if I had a chance to be a guy, I’d waste no time in riding my own hand into the sunset and beyond – “

“Cheyenne.”

“Sorry.”

I shook my head, mentally chuckling about her little reverie. Sure, there were a ton of things I could think to experiment with now that I was a girl, but I didn’t really have the heart to do them until I figured out a way to reverse this whole situation at a moment’s notice. “No offense to you ladies, but I think I’ll stick with being a guy, if I can even become one again, that is.”

Cheyenne let out a low whistle. “Damn. Sucks to be you.”

“No kidding.”

“Random thought: Does this officially make you a lesbian now?”

I sighed. “I’m still pansexual, Chey. Still pansexual.”

“Okay. What does it feel like to lose your penis?”

“I dunno. It’s weird, and it feels like I’m missing a part of myself. Like, if I were to start fapping at this very moment – “

“TMI, man!” Cheyenne protested.

“Hey, you asked the question.”

“Fine. Guilty. How are your viewers going to react to this?”

I grew silent. My viewers... One of the only reasons why I was known on the Internet was because of my unique voice. Now that I’d lost that, I physically couldn’t continue to upload videos anymore. No one would know who the hell I was because a) I was a girl, b) I was a girl, and c) I was a freaking girl. This was officially my downfall.

“Damn,” Chey muttered, “well doesn’t this just suck.”

“Yup.”

We sat there in silence for a couple of moments, letting that new revelation sink in. I couldn’t post videos anymore. I could no longer do Let’s Plays. I couldn’t even freaking stream with the crew on Twitch. It was gone. All gone, because Mother frickin’ Nature decided that I was better off as a lovely ol’ lady.

“Oh! I have an idea!” Chey exclaimed, sitting up all of a sudden.

My gaze immediately focused on her through the screen. “Yeah?”

She sat forward and inched closer to the webcam, her eyes alight with pure hope and excitement. She grinned widely and opened her mouth to speak – 

_BRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG._

My eyes shot open at the noise. In a daze, I searched the room for the source of the sound and zeroed in on my alarm clock.

_My alarm clock?_

I whipped my gaze around at my surroundings. I was... I was in bed, with my blankets tangled up between my legs and my pillow strewn across the room. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I propped myself up on my elbows and stared at the wall, my eyes hardening with resolve.

Never again was I going to play disturbing indie games before I went to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still cringing as I reread this. I always end up disliking my past works no matter how proud I was of them back then. :/


End file.
